


Forever

by rachelisconfused



Category: Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Immortality, Mentions of Death, but there are strong mentions of death, immortal au, nothing too brutal is described
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7280593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelisconfused/pseuds/rachelisconfused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were born to loving parents in the year 1637 and later died at the age of twenty-nine in 1666. You weren't sure what you expected after death, but waking up again, practically unscathed, wasn't what you had in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

You were born to loving parents in the year 1637. You grew up alongside all the other kids your age-- attending school, working with your parents and siblings, playing mindlessly with friends, etc. It was all that you could ever imagine it to be.  
But one fateful night in 1666, at the age of twenty-nine, you were killed in a massive fire and pronounced dead on the spot.  
Then you woke up with only a piercing headache and slight burn marks, dotting your frame. You had no idea how such a thing was even possible, but you knew in the pit of your stomach that you needed to escape by any means necessary. Thankfully, while everyone was asleep, you managed to steal needed items, such as food and clothing, and sneak aboard a ship, headed towards a nearby country where you made a new name for yourself.  
This time around, you managed to survive another sixteen years before another accident occurred. A few of your neighbors-- all middle aged women who, you realized, had a severe problem with sticking their nose in places that they didn’t belong-- noticed that over the past sixteen years that you lived in your house, you never aged.  
They instantly believed that you were the work of Satan or some other unholy being and began to plot your demise. You tried to argue and reason with them, but they were too far gone. Just a few days before you were planning on leaving the town for good, you let your guard down. Not even thinking about about the consequences, you took one of the drinks they offered you and drank poisoned wine. One second you can feel your lungs practically collapse and then the next you found yourself gasping for air, floating in the nearby river where the women hid your body.  
Working quickly, you managed to escape the freezing waters. You feared what exactly your damp clothes would do for your health. You managed to find shelter, as well as a change of clothes, in a nearby town, but the damage was done. Three days later you died due to pneumonia.  
Throughout the next couple of hundred years you died approximately 26 other times in a variety of ways: shootings, drownings, car wrecks, illness, and even hangings and bring burned alive. Every single time, however, you managed to wake back up and continue a new life. You used a variety of pseudonyms and occupations, trying to hide your real identity when you could. Only a few people ever knew the truth… and more than half of them were the people who tried to kill you…  
You fell in love for the first time between your fifth and sixth death. You first met him at a nearby market where he worked and you instantly fell for him. You managed to find almost any reason to go visit him and speak to him. At first, the two of you only made small talk about the weather or the most recent town gossip. As time went on, however, he became more interested in you and decided that he wanted to get to know you better. You went on several dates with him and thoroughly enjoyed every single moment in his presence. He was kind and smiled politely when you talked. His eyes gleamed at the very sight of you and always laughed far more than necessary when you told a joke. You were happy with him.  
He proposed one April afternoon and you agreed at once.  
He didn’t know, however. You never told him. You were scared as to how the situation would go and how he would take such news. The idea ran through your mind for weeks before you decided to do something about it.  
You ran.  
Like many times before, you packed everything you owned and fled the scene. At first, your originally thought to not even leave him a message, but you realized that you absolutely had to. Sticking a small piece of parchment to the table in your old house, you quickly scribbled a message for him, detailing just how sorry you were and how you had to do this. You left the small ring he gave you on top of the letter and ran without turning back.  
After such an experience like this, you kept your heart very well guarded. It would be for the best, you decided, to keep to yourself and not let anyone in. There were a few people you fell through along the lonely years, but you never allowed yourself to grow truly close to them. It would only end in the same, painful way.  
In order to keep things exciting, you moved from place to place, often staying in a similar loop of countries. You were born in England, moved to Scotland, then Ireland, France, Germany, Spain, America, and then back to England. You continued to make this circle for several decades, adventuring to new cities every time, always being careful if you had to cross through a city you previously called home. Somehow, and you thank the stars above you, no one ever caught on to you.  
Eventually, you found yourself lowering your guard more and more. You would spend as long as you could in certain cities, rather than bailing as soon as you could. The population had soared in comparison to when you first began, making it immensely easier to blend in with the crowd. Newer technology, such as plastic surgery, allowed you to stop worrying about the fact that you didn’t visibly age anymore. What technology didn’t give you was an answer to how all of this was even possible. After over three hundred years of living like this, you still had no clue as to how it was even possible.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: mentions of death, but nothing too excruciating, i promise.

Your favorite place in the entire world were the French Alps. There wasn’t even a doubt in your mind when it came to this. You loved virtually everything about it. You felt most at peace when you were there. You found yourself spending a lot of your time around the lakes in the region as well as adventuring the mountains, themselves.   
One day, you found yourself lounging near the lakes, basking in the afternoon sun, journalling all of your most recent events. You were humming silently to yourself as you wrote when you noticed a tall man stomp his way towards the shore. His brown, tangled hair was blowing in the wind as he mumbled to himself and gripped something tightly in his hands. You instantly stopped what you were doing to watch this man as he took what looked to be a pill bottle and chuck it into the lake. He let out a heavy sigh of relief before turning around and noticing you.   
“Was that medicine?” you asked. The stranger nodded in response. “That’s not safe…”   
The man just smirked. “I know,” he replied before continuing his walk back into town.   
You smiled to yourself at his small act of both bravery and stupidity before returning to your journal and beginning to write about the mysterious, idiotic man. 

Your second favorite place in the entire world was California. You felt at home there, amongst all other varieties of people. There were all sorts of people who defied societal norms that no one really seemed to question you or your behavior. It was nice to not be scared anymore.   
You made a new life in this town, spending most of your days in various cafes, writing or daydreaming over a steaming cup of coffee. No one ever even seemed to second guess you as you came in every morning, sat in the same spot, and fell into your usual routine. Virtually every worker and regular customer knew you by name and order. Nothing ever seemed to change nor disturb you when you lived in California.   
One day, however, your typical routine was disrupted. You wandering into the coffee shop, perfect change in hand and ready to give to the cashier when you noticed that someone was sitting in your normal spot. Normally, this wouldn’t have bothered you, but since you had sat in that seat literally every day for months, you had grown some sort of sentimental connection with the seat. It was perfect. And it was yours.   
You sighed and continued to the register, deciding it wasn’t best to draw attention to yourself by making something out of nothing. The barista seemed to notice the look on your face as you took your order and paid.   
“He’s been here all night?” she replied as she handed you your coffee.   
“Hmm?” you hummed in question as you took the first sip.   
“The man sitting in your seat. His name is Danny and he’s been sitting there all night, pouring over that notebook.”   
“Oh.”   
“I just know how much you love that seat,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure he’ll get up and leave eventually.”   
You chuckled and smiled at her attempt to be helpful. “Thank you.”   
Deciding to wait it out, you simply take a seat at a table nearby your typical one and prays the man leaves soon. You sit facing him so you can realize when he leaves and snag your seat before anyone else decides to.   
While you were not so subtly staring at him, the stranger’s eyes look up and smiled at you. You decided to smile and wave in return, as to appear to be at least somewhat friendly. He stares at you for a second longer before slightly shaking his head and returning to his notebook. You decide to do the same and pull out the book you were currently reading from your bag.   
As you read, you couldn’t help but feel eyes from the table over. Every time you looked up and tried to catch him in his act, the man managed to turn away just in time. You grinned to yourself as the two of you continued to play this childish game.   
Eventually, you heard his chair softly scoot back and footsteps sound against the tile floor before the chair across from you at your own table was pulled out. You glanced up to see the man, Danny, sitting across from you. You raised your eyebrow at the sight of him, curious as to what exactly he was doing at your table. You pulled the scarf you were wearing tighter, keeping it closer to your neck, covering the large scar you had there from death number twenty-two.  
“Okay,” he began. “This is going to sound crazy, but just hear me out.”   
“Okay…?” you replied, almost scared as to what he was going to say.   
“I know you from somewhere. I don’t know where, but I know your face.”   
You shrugged, trying to play off the fact that your heart was racing. You had finally settled in for good and you really didn’t want to pack everything up again and flee just because one stranger knows your face from somewhere.   
“Are you from New Jersey?” he questioned.   
“England.”   
“You don’t sound it,” Danny retorts.   
“I’ve moved around a lot,” you replied, starting to grow almost angry with his new game of questions.   
“Okay, have you ever been to New Jersey?”   
“No.”   
“New York?” he tried again.   
“A long time ago.”   
“Boston?”   
“Not in about twenty years.”   
“Israel?”   
“Look, maybe I just have one of those faces,” you tried to reason.   
“France?” he replied, clearly ignoring your statement. His brows her now furrowed in concentration as he appeared to be racking his brain for any information.   
“Not in a couple of years. The French Alps.”   
“That’s it!” he cheered with a bright smile. “You’re her!”   
The second you saw his exuberant smile, you realized just who he was. Although his hair had drastically grown out from the last time you saw him at the lake, he was still clearly the very same, lanky man.   
“You threw your medicine in the lake,” you whispered. “You were so stupid to throw your medicine.”   
He chuckled and nodded his head. “Yeah, I really was. Thankfully, I didn’t face any harsh side effects.”   
“That’s good,” you smiled. “You look really different. A good different.”   
“Yeah, I’ve changed a lot since then,” he replied. “I can see you haven’t. You still look the same.”   
“I have this really good moisturizer,” you joked, hopefully he wouldn’t ask anymore questions about the matter.   
“It’s clearly working,” he laughed. “I’m Danny, by the way.”   
“_____,” you replied, holding out your hand for him to shake. He smiled and happily gave it a firm shake. 

Since that day, you and Danny spent a lot of time together. He became very interested in learning more about you and all the places you travelled while you became curious as to how he was since the medicine incident. You two would trade stories for hours on end. He would tell you about his job and his music while you told him about cities and countries that he had always wanted to visit, but didn’t have the chance.   
Eventually, Danny worked up the nerves and asked you out, to which you agreed, only after much deliberation. You hadn’t truly fallen for anyone since your previous fiancee, but you realized that there was something in Danny that you missed. He made you happy. He felt like home.

You realized that after months of dating him that you should probably tell him about the entire immortality thing. Every single time you were with him, you debated telling him, but the voices in the back of your head always talked you out of it, explaining that it wasn’t the right time or that you couldn’t bear to lose him. Danny always realized that you were debating with yourself and tried to assure you that, no matter what, everything would be okay.   
“You can tell me anything,” he reasoned as he held your hand, sweeping his giant thumb over your knuckles. “No matter what.”   
“I know,” you whispered.   
“Does it have to do with the scarf?” he asked after a pregnant pause.   
He was always curious about the scarf you wore. You never took it off, no matter the weather. You always wore it close to your neck, almost as though it would choke you if you weren’t careful. Danny often raised concern as to why you wore it, even when you complained about how hot it was, but since makeup never properly covered up the long, thin scar that swept from ear to ear, you always resulted in wearing a scarf instead.   
“No,” you lied.   
“I love you.”   
“I love you too.” you replied.   
And you did. You truly did. 

Finally, nearly a year and a half into the relationship, you decided to tell him everything. You knew how crazy you would sound, but you knew you had to. It was the only way to be absolutely honest with him.   
You called him over to your apartment, pacing back and forth as you waited. When he carefully knocked on your door, you raced over to it, practically jumping in his arms. He struggled to catch you, but gracefully did and gave you a large hug.   
“Someone’s excited to see me,” he laughed before pressing his lips to yours.   
“I have something to tell you,” you replied. “And I don’t know if you’re going to believe me or if you’re going to hate me and never talk to me again, but I have to do it.”   
“_____, is everything alright?” he asked, clearly scared as to what you were going to tell him.   
“Yes,” you replied, taking his hand and tugging him inside. “Let’s sit.”   
You carefully led him into your small living room where you had set out all of your journals from years past. In them, you had detailed descriptions of virtually everything that had happened for the past 350 years. They were of all shapes and sized and took up the majority of the table. Danny’s jaw practically dropped when he saw all of them.   
“What is all of this?”   
“My journals,” you replied, pulling him to sit on the couch next to you. “These are important to me.”   
“Okay, but why are you showing me these?” Danny asked.   
“Do you promise to at least hear me out?”   
“Of course. I love you, _____.”   
You nodded, praying that he still would even after you told him all of this. Plucking the first journal off the table, you opened to page one.   
“March 31, 1682,” you read aloud. “It happened again. They poisoned me and threw my body in the river. It didn’t work. I’m alive again.” You paused to look up at Danny. He was staring at you with a confused and worried look on his face. “April 4, 1682. I’m not normal. I can’t be. I shouldn’t be alive. First the fire, then the poison, and now pneumonia. I shouldn’t be alive. But here I am…”   
“_____, what is this?”   
“These, Danny, are the truth,” you replied, closing the journal and putting it back on the table. “I’ve been lying to you since we met. I’ve been hiding this from you.”   
“Hiding what?” he asked, fear rising in his voice. “What are you telling me?”   
“I was born in 1637. I’ve died twenty-six times between then and now. I keep coming back, Danny. I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but I do. I physically cannot die. And, trust me, people have tried.”   
“I don’t understand.”   
“Neither do I, Danny, but I’m telling you the truth. It’s all written down here. I’ve taken note of basically every single day since my second death. You can read any of them if you want. It’s all there.”   
“Someone poisoned you?”   
You stared at him, wondering how this was the question he asked out of everything. You slowly nodded.   
“Why would they do that?”   
“They realized I didn’t age and tried to kill me,” you replied, trying to remain calm for his sake.   
“You said you died in fire. What fire?”   
“The Great Fire of London in 1666. I got trapped in one of the houses and couldn’t get out,” you replied. You paused to roll up one of your pant legs and pointed to a small scorch mark that was still imprinted there. “I still have the marks.”   
“How else have you been killed?”   
“Oh, loads,” you basically chuckled. You unbuttoned the first two buttons of your shirt and pulled it over to show a small hole near your left collarbone. “I was shot here during WWI. It was a total accident on their part, but I still bled out to death.” You stopped again to lift up the bottom of your shirt and pointed to a small scar. “I was stitched up here after a car wreck that I shouldn’t have walked away from. I mean, technically, I didn’t, but I got it cleaned up afterward.”   
“And your scarf?” Danny asked.   
You looked up at him and slowly began to unravel the scarf from around your neck. You closed your eyes for a second and let out a sigh before allowing him to see the scar that swept across your neck.   
“What happened there?”   
“Murder gone wrong,” you whispered, tears forming at the thought. It was so long ago, but it still felt fresh in your brain. “That was probably the scariest one. They slit my throat and didn’t expect to ever see me again.”   
“Oh, my God, ______. I’m so sorry.”   
“Do you believe me?”   
Danny stayed silent for a moment, only causing your heartbeat to race again. You were beyond scared as to what he would say and you really didn’t want him to hate you. You couldn’t bear that sort of guilt weighing you down.   
“Yeah, I suppose I do,” he replied, taking your hand in his. “I mean, it sounds crazy, but weirder things have happened, right?”   
You let out a deep sigh of relief. He was taking this far better than you could ever imagine. Before calling him over, you honestly expected you would have to go to drastic measures to prove this to him.   
“I couldn’t make this up even if I tried, Danny. I assure you that.”   
He chuckled. “You went through far too much for me to believe that this was a practical joke.”   
“Do you hate me for keeping this from you?” you asked, almost scared of the answer, but you knew you needed to ask.   
“Never,” he replied, pulling you close to him. “I could never, ever hate you. Your secret’s safe with me.”   
“I love you,” you whispered as you snuggled in closer to his chest.   
“I love you too,” Danny murmured into your hair before pressing a gentle kiss to it and leaning his head on yours. “You definition of forever may be different than mine, but I promise to love you for as long as both definitions truly mean.”   
The two of you sat in silence for a couple of moments, allowing you to carefully comprehend everything he just said. Your heart had slowed down back to a normal pattern and a giant weight felt as those it was greatly lifted from your shoulders.   
“Besides, now you have to tell me everything you’ve experienced. I mean, how was WWII? Who shot you? What happened?”   
You softly chuckled before you began to tell him all about the fateful night in 1943.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoy that little story. it's currently 3 am so sorry if it's total shit. i hope you liked at least a little fraction of it.   
> have a great night and thank you for reading. i love you all very, very much.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i love you!


End file.
